Tenn frowned but nodded and marched right toward his uncle. With every step he took the hardwood floor trembled. Green and blue magic coiled around his arms.

“No one else ever volunteers to spar with this one, not even on a day when he’s calm and in control of himself. But like this? No way.” Tim grinned down at me. “I figure one Proctor against another Proctor is a fair spar.”

My heart stopped. “You want me to spar Tennessee?”

Tenn finally stopped in front of us. His mismatched eyes were dark and tense. “What am I doing here?” he all but growled.

Tim clapped him on the shoulder. “I found you a sparring partner.”

Tenn scowled, then looked down to me. I watched as his gaze slid down to where my magic was flickering around my arms and hands. Then he glanced at the state of the gym, and I knew by the way his eyebrows rose that he was seeing just how much of a mess I’d made. He whistled. “Man, we really are related, aren’t we?”

That made me laugh. Tim’s idea had been crazy to me at first, but he had a point. I was in desperate need to fight something for real and the only person who wouldn’t be afraid of that would be my cousin. So, I pulled my sais free and held them up. “Yeah, but don’t let that make you go easy on me.”

In the back of my mind, I wondered if I had a death wish. And by the way everyone else moved to watch, I bet they thought so too. But I blocked them out and charged for Tenn without warning. I was about two feet from him when he spun and swept my legs out from under me in a blur. My back slammed into the mat with a crunch.

Tenn leaned over me and made a tsk tsk sound. He reached down and grabbed my ankle with one hand and yanked—I flew into the air and spun, crashing back into the mat in a somersault. I rolled to the balls of my feet and charged him again. This time I swung my sais, and the long blade of his black sword clashed against both my weapons. My magic flickered all around us, but Tenn didn’t even seem to notice. We moved up and down the mat, block for block, hit for hit. I was flipped, kicked, spun, and thrown quite a few times, yet each time I landed back on my feet. Or got back up quickly.

He was holding back and I knew it. I was a good fighter, but not Tennessee good. He was kicking my ass and in complete control of himself. I was panting already, and he was still smiling like this was a casual stroll through a garden. I wanted him to really get into the zone. I wanted a fight.